The Prelude: Trials of the Patient (2A)
by Sierra1
Summary: Chapter 2A, enter Kathryn...


Chapter 2: Trials of the Patient

By Sierra

Isn't it astounding how much history gets twisted around over time? It always amazes me how differently events are portrayed in books, as opposed to how they really happened. Many of the pasts prominent events have been reduced to mere legends of today, a shadow of their former glory that lives only in the bedtime stories of small children. But that's beside the point. Let me introduce you to my own legend; if that's what you prefer to refer to it as, for that is what it has been reduced to.

My name is Kathryn of Pendragon. You might possibly have heard of one of my descendants, Uther of Pendragon and his son Arthur, famous kings of all Britain? They too are now mere legends passed down through the ages. My family hails from a long line of nobility and royalty. Untainted and pure as I was often reminded as a child. I was brought up knowing that I would one day marry into a noble family, bear children and live the quiet life aquatinted with female nobility. This…._dullness_, lack of choice unnerved me to no end but, being the docile and obedient child that I was, I simply ignored any implied rumors pertaining to my future. 

As a small child I was fascinated by the visual arts. I now realize that any well bred maiden of my stature would be expected to enjoy embroidery and music to a certain extent, but I was fascinated by the color, sound, and the life it created, the way I could imagine my own worlds and people so that nothing around me seemed in any way important. I could sit for hours on end locked away in my own mind, putting my visions onto cloth or into music. 

I suppose that was the problem with me. In those days, magic was feared and punishable by death. So as you can imagine, I grew up with a natural understanding that anything magical was to be avoided. My parents often worried about my…_unhealthy_ interest in art; for fear that it may prove undesirable when I came of marriageable age. So I hid my obsessions from them as well as possible. I couldn't seem to understand why they found my hobbies disturbing, it suited me fine. I had always tried to live up to their expectations as best as possible; I was polite and docile. I was a neat as humanly possible when you think of the layers of clothing I waded around in. I was even reasonably attractive, with my naturally wavy and thick blond hair and green eyes. All the things that a well-bred maiden should be, but it never seemed to please them.

I suppose I was somewhat jealous of my older sister Anne. She, at my age of ten, was already 17, married to a wealthy nobleman. My parents found no boredom in commenting on her new status, or discussing the health of her children. I felt overshadowed by her accomplishments. So I tried my hardest to please everyone. I was polite to all of my suitors, whether they were to me or not. So you can imagine that when I was ten and not of particular interest to anyone, my mother decided to take matters onto her own hands.

One afternoon I was sitting in my bedchamber sketching the garden outside my window. The flowers were just in bloom, and I had access to a wonderful view. Whenever I moved my quill just so, it almost looked as if the trees and flowers were moving to an invisible breeze. I suppose they were actually, but to admit it, or show anyone would get me accused of witchcraft so fast my head would spin, so I merely kept that to myself, delighting in it's forbidden joy. My nursemaid quietly opened the door, curtsying. She was a small lady, frail to the eye, but certainly not in spirit, as I learned the hard way many times.

"Miss? Your parents request an audience with you downstairs. Immediately." 

I groaned. By the time they were done the light would be gone and I couldn't finish my picture. Setting down my quill, I straightened up and looked her in the eye, sighing. "Tell them I'll be down soon."

"Yes, miss." She replied, leaving.

Ten minutes later, I made my way downstairs to the parlor. Opening the door, I curtsied deeply to my parents, and the man sitting next to them. I was ushered to a seat across from them, where I sat quietly. 

"Kathryn, this is Duke Thomas of Malfoy, and his son William," my father spoke, gesturing to the tall man seated beside him. I then noticed the tall figure behind him that I had looked over before. I bowed my head politely to our guests and sat silently. Now that I remember it, I find it hard to believe that I could have ever overlooked William, in all his imposing glory.

William of Malfoy was…how shall I say it…. Impressive, to say the least. He was certainly handsome, one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. His white-blond hair fell blow his ears perfectly, and accompanied with his extremely pale complexion, he looked like a ghost. He was tall; at about 17 he was a good foot taller than I, and lean in build with a powerful grace. As he turned to look at me, his smoky gray eyes bore into mine. They were certainly beautiful, but looked as though they were hiding something, something I was sure I never wanted to know. They bore into mine until I was forced to look down at my hands in my lap, just to avoid getting lost in their depths. 

It dawned on me then that their, my parents and Duke Thomas, intentions were not that of a friendly visit. They were presenting me as a product before a buyer, to see if I was accepted. It certainly would be a profitable match, I though reasonably. Malfoy was a large ducal house, much larger than our own barony, and they were certainly wealthy. My parents were hoping for a marriage that they could profit from. I was merely a product to be bartered with. This didn't disturb me half as much as it used to; I was immune to the truth. 

I tuned out the rest of their conversation, looking humbly into my lap and nodding in the correct places. I had memorized it many times before, and simply lost myself in my own thoughts. Conversation was momentarily adjourned so the company could move into the dining hall where I would be expected to show off my perfect table manners. I was seated across from William, as usual, and could feel his eyes on me. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes again, to see his determined face.

Dinner passed uneventfully. I refrained from dropping anything, as I had in previous experiences. I answered any questions politely, and I could tell by the look on my mother's face that things were going well. It looked as though by that evening all arrangements would be made and deals settled. It may seem awkward, but I was, after all, 10 and of suitable age for marriage.

After dinner, my parents and Duke Thomas left the two of us alone in the second parlor to 'get acquainted'. This would mainly involve him asking questions, while I gave simple and polite answers. Nothing personal or extensive, women weren't viewed as particularly smart. 

"Do you have any sisters or brothers?" he asked politely.

"Yes," I answered quietly. "I have a sister, Anne. She is married."

"That's nice. Does she have any children?"

"Yes, two sons," I answered. I opted to look down at my lap again. Even at rest he seemed powerful, like he had power radiating from him in waves. It frightened me, so I avoided eye contact.

"You are frightened of me. I can tell," he said smugly. _Was he a mind reader, or was I that_ _transparent_, I wondered. I glanced up at him, and saw a self satisfied look in his cold gray eyes.

"No, my lord. I…I…"I stuttered, searching for a good excuse.

"Don't lie," he said forcibly. "I detest liars. When I ask you something, I want the truth. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said meekly, inwardly cringing. 

"Good," he said coldly.

Soon after, we were summoned back into the main parlor. Shortly after, after a conversation I tuned out, the Malfoys left. My mother visibly relaxed, sighing happily.

"All arrangements have been made," my father announced, pleased. 

"And just in time. I thought we'd never get you married off," my mother added. "And such a charming young man. It is quite a good match."

I smiled meekly, not sure whether to be outraged or cry. There was something about the Duke and his son that left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. A foreboding that something fearful was going to happen, and soon. 

The next few days were full of endless fittings. Fittings for my wedding dress, new gowns, and the like. It appeared that I had to have an entirely new wardrobe for my new life, so the fittings were endless. So many that even _my_ patience was wearing thin. The wedding was set for one week in the future, and the house was such a blurry mass of activity it made my head spin and my heart flutter with anxiety. Or was it fear? I can't hardly remember. 

Time really flies by when you wish it would slow, doesn't it? It seemed like only one day later, all of my things were packed and when were preparing to leave for the church and my new home, but in reality it was a week. By that time I was numb to all the chatter around me. My handmaids were talking happily about how wealthy and handsome he was, my parents exclaiming over his lands and money. Everyone was excited but me, and it was my wedding!

A short few days later, I was packed up and preparing to leave for the chapel and the Malfoy estates. It's amazing how many things one doesn't know they had until it comes time to pack them all up. I spent the long carriage ride comforting myself with the idea that once we were married, he wouldn't want to see much of me and I would be left to myself. 

The trip was long, and we stopped at an inn for the night. We reached Malfoy the next evening; the wedding scheduled to take place in the morning. I dropped into a fitful nervous sleep, full of short dream sequences that I couldn't remember upon waking. My stomach fluttered as I was dressed and ate, and I hardly remember doing anything, just that my body went through all the usual procedures without much thinking. Everyone was rushing around in a hurry, my mother almost crying with joy and my handmaids babbling with excitement. And I just sat there in the middle of it all, wishing I were home. 

I can't even remember the ceremony all that well. There were many people, and a temple priest to perform the ceremony, but the rest passed too quickly. It all seemed like a bad dream that I would wake up from, but I never did.

Shortly after I was taken to a carriage where we were to be driven back to my new home. Good-byes were quickly made, with my parents promising to write, and I promising to tell them everything about my life in return. After setting off, the trip was fairly short. I sat forlornly in a corner, William in the other, resting and staring at the passing scenery, obviously bored. We soon arrived at the newly built Malfoy Manor. It was a large, imposing stone structure, easily four levels high. But it didn't seem like home to me. 

Although I've tried many times, I can't seem to block out the next few days from my mind. It's as if they were etched in stone into my memory. Although I had toyed with the idea of escape in my mind, I now knew it was impossible. William had made sure that I was his property, both mentally and physically.

I felt…violated in a way, like something was taken away from me against my will. Annulment was impossible in the eyes of the Christian Church of which William was a member, and I was expected to be. It was very different from my parents' faith. 

The manor seemed even bigger on the inside than the outside, if that's possible. After endless times getting lost in the labyrinth of stone corridors, I decided to keep to the small private libraries. I had been taught to read at a young age by a compassionate nursemaid, and found the hobby relaxing. The room also had a breathtaking view from the large dormer windows. I spent most of my time in there escaping reality as well as possible and only coming down for meals or to meet a seemingly endless stream of visitors wishing to express their congratulations. I was never expected to speak during these visits, only sit quietly like a trophy. 

**__**

One afternoon, I was wondering around, exploring my new surroundings. It had occurred to me that I might want to familiarize myself with it, seeing as it was my permanent home from now on. The manor was much bigger on the inside than it appeared to be. Most of the doors were unlocked, but didn't lead to anything remotely interesting. A few led to libraries and the like, but I had never had much of a passion for reading, so I simply passed those by.

One room did provoke my curiosity, however. I fund it down a long, dimly lit and cold stone corridor. I had been preparing to turn back, when the light coming from underneath the door caught my eye. Creeping up to it, I found it unlocked and opened it carefully.

The room was awash with flickering candlelight illuminating the tapestry-covered walls. Each tapestry depicted a different scene, either battle or strange plants and animals out of fairy tales. Awed, I examined each one for a time, before my ears picked up the voices coming from the next room. Looking around, I couldn't seem to find a door, only a painting showing a separate hallway. What was interesting, was that it seemed so _real_, like you could just step into it. 

Approaching it, I reached out to touch it, but jumped back in surprise. My hand passed right through it! Like water! Reaching out again, I gingerly put my hand through. When nothing happened, I stepped all the way through. It was just like any other hallway, except the doorway was a painting, not a real door. Following the voices I heard, I wandered down, every once in a while stopping to feel the stones on the walls. Soon I came to another doorway. This one was open only a crack, but I knew it was he source of the sounds.

Looking in, it took my eyes time to adjust to the dim light, I saw two sillouhettes bent over a fireplace with a large cauldron suspended in midair over it. Something bubbling inside gave off the odor of rotting plants and mildew. Looking at their backs, I saw that they both had light blond hair, one slightly taller than the other. It was plainly obvious that it was William and the Duke, but what were they doing here? I watched as William lifted the cauldron off the fire, and poured the blue liquid into a vial on the table. Drawing a grayish powder from another vial, he sprinkled the contents into the still bubbling liquid.

The fumes drifted over to where I was still hiding behind the door. I an attempt to cover my nose and avoid sneezing, I stumbled backwards onto the stone hallway floor, knocking the door open wider and attracting attention from the two inside the room.

With a flick of his wrist, William flung the door open to reveal me in an ungainly mess on the floor. I was too horrified at being found to wonder how he opened the door from across the room. No one spoke or moved for what seemed like an eternity. I suddenly unfroze and jumped up, running as fast as I could down the corridor. I could hear the pounding of feet behind me, but I ignored it and kept going. 

When I got back to the main room, I realized that I could on no way outrun them, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I ducked behind a bookcase, and hoped nom one could see me. I assume it worked, because the sound of feet passed me right by. 

I don't remember what happened next. Whatever did, I soon found myself outside the house, in the forest behind it. I must have followed the path leading from the back door, but however I did it, it was apparent that I was lost. I had never really been outside since my arrival, so I didn't know my way around yet. With a new kind of panic rising in my throat, I spun around in circles, looking for any signs of the building I had come to know and hate. As much as I dreaded going back, anything would be better than wandering around these woods in the dark.

After a bit of pointless wandering I was deep into the forest and it was growing darker by the minute and I figured that any hope of getting home by dark was pointless. I sat down on a nearby log and buried my head in my hands, sobbing. It was probably a stupid thing to do, because the noise was what attracted it to me. 

As I sat there, I became aware of a pair of eyes on me. That feeling of being watched that makes the hairs on the back of your neck tingle. Looking up and wiping my streaming eyes, I saw two luminescent green eyes stare at me from a clump of bushes across from my log. I stood up and backed slowly away, not watching where I was gong, just terrified much more than I had ever been. A soft growl arose, and I quickened my pace. A large shadow stepped out from behind the bush, a large hulking mass of fur and glowing teeth. It occurred to me that it couldn't be just a wolf, it was much too large than the ones our hunters brought back from their trips. I stumbled over a fallen branch and the mass leapt at me. 

Screaming, I jumped up and turned tail, running as fast as I could. I heard the snarls get closer, and tripped again, catching my foot in a forked branch. The pain as the jaws closed on my ankle was excruciating, like having fiery nails driven into your skin. My mind flashed bright white, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was three arrows embedded deep in the creatures' back. 

I came to what seemed to me like the next morning. I was lying on the large bed in the bedchamber, my head aching and a white-hot pain in my ankle. The nurse at my bedside reached over with a wet cloth for my head, whispering soothing words, but they went unnoticed. I lay there, in a cold sweat, replaying events in my mind. The eyes, the pain, the arrows. And the horrid scene downstairs before I fled the house. It was enough to give me the urge to lose what little was in my stomach. 

"There, there, dearie. Are you feeling any better?" she asked kindly.

"What do you mean? How long has it been?" I asked, worried. In my mind it was only the next morning, not any longer.

"You've been in and out of consciousness for about three days now, poor thing. Have barely eaten a thing. Here, drink this." She thrust a cup to my mouth, forcing me to swallow. After a few tries, I managed to swallow a few gulps of the hot tea, which soothed my headache quickly, even though it did nothing for the pain in my foot. Biting my lip, I attempted to sit up, gasping as I jerked the offending limb. The tea must have been laced, for I soon dropped into a dead, dreamless sleep.

When I awoke it was almost dusk and the room was dimly lit with an array of candles. Seated casually across from the end of the bed was William, a casual expression on his face, but fire in his eyes. Wincing in the still trobbing pain, I struggled to sit up, but settled for propping myself up against the pillows. A flood of memories came rushing back and I winced again, but not in pain.

"Stupid girl," he said in a low growl. "Such potential, yet you almost get yourself killed." He stood up and strode quickly over to the bedside. Reeling back, he slapped me hard across the face. It was all I could do to keep from crying. He continued. 

"Even I never thought you were capable of such idiocracy. Out of all the animals known to man, you go and get bitten by the one that is incurable. I've half a mind to dispose of you right now and say you died in the attack."

I gasped involuntarily and tried to pull myself away, but was held in place by a strong hand.

"Werewolves are the strongest of all creatures. One bite and you are marked for life, assuming you live." He stepped back thoughtfully. "Although this truly shows the extent of your capabilities. Any normal being would have certainly died in that confrontation. Yes, that seals it. You are a witch for certain."

My mind screamed in terror. They burned witches! I reeled back as if struck again. "No," I whispered. "I am not! I swear!" The tears I had tried so hard to hold back splashed down my face. I hid my head in my lap and sobbed.

"Stupid girl! To be a witch is a noble title! To be so much stronger than normal beings, it is wonderful!. I am certainly not planning on turning someone with such ability in to the officials. As it is you almost got yourself killed. I am sure, that after the rather…shocking display in the dungeons you are convinced of the extent of magic's' power?" He sneered in memory as my sobs continued, hard as I tried to wipe my streaming eyes. I was appalled. To be named a witch, an advocate of the devil, and then told it was next to godliness? It was horrifying! Yet something in the back of my mind reasoned that I had known for some time that I had abilities beyond others. There was no other reason for my pictures and such to be so accurate. And I was most certainly still alive, despite my recent accident. My sobs quieted to an occasional gasp as I reasoned with myself. He wouldn't turn me in to a temple priest, that was for certain. I absently rubbed my still stinging cheek as I looked up into his triumphant eyes. 

William began to leave the room, briefly stopping to face me. "You are hereby restricted to these chambers. I will call for you when you are permitted to leave." With that said, he left completely. As soon as he was out, a nurse scuttled in with a cup of tea to soothe the throb in my ankle.

"Poor, poor dear," she crooned. "So young. A cold man, Master Malfoy is. Heart of Stone. She handed me the cup. "Don't worry, dear. No harm will come to you. None more than this, at least," she said, indicating my ankle beneath the coverlet. "Drink up." I gratefully took the cup, sipping slowly.

"How much of our…_his_…conversation did you hear?" I asked cautiously. 

"Oh, none to worry, dear. I myself am a talented healer witch. It's nothing to be ashamed of. But you are so young, it must have come as a shock." I nodded in agreement, realizing what it was that had put me to sleep so quickly the last time. This time I was prepared. I only drank half, setting the rest aside for when I was ready to sleep. 

"You're…you're a witch too?" I asked wonderingly. She was so kind…how could she be a witch? I had always pictures witches as evil, ugly, creatures. Not the grandmotherly type. 

"Certainly dear. I come from a long line of magical folk. Though I'm certain you don't. Oh well, I suppose you are the black sheep in your family.' She smiled kindly, taking the bite out of her words. "Now drink up. We'll have you back to normal in no time."

"But…but what about my bite? Will it go away?" I asked hopefully. "He said a werewolf bit me. Will I be all right?"

She sighed with a sad expression on her face. "Yes, that. Oh, but you are so young…so very young…" she trailed off/

"What? Tell me!" I pleaded, preparing for the worst. I could die…what was worse than that?

"When a werewolf bites you, you are marked for life. With that changing if the moon…I've heard it is very painful," she said, sadly, blotting at tears.

"What is painful?" I said, shaking.

"Why, the change from human to wolf! It is the permanent side effect of a bite from a werewolf. The changeover occurs with the full moon. Surely you have heard the stories," she said. Her tone of voice and expression was frightening me.

"Will I…will I live?" I questioned. "Is there a cure? A medicine I could take?"

"None known to man, dearie. The effects are permanent. Such a tragedy," she replied. I felt tears welling up, but the nurse forced the cup of tea into my hands before they could fall. "Drink dearie. You will feel better tomorrow." I drank, but I highly doubted I would ever feel any better. 

The next day dawned wet and dreary, fitting my mood perfectly. I kept trying to tell myself that ii was all a bad dream, but the ache in my ankle proved otherwise. Pulling into a sitting position, I drank from the steaming cup on the bedside table, left there by the nurse who was now busily moving around the room gathering clothing.

"I'm to dress you and take you downstairs for breakfast. You have a visitor this morning," she hummed, in better spirits than the night before. Confused, I allowed myself to be dressed. Luckily, she was gentle and cautious of my ankle, thankfully. 

A/N: There! Half of Chapter 2 is up, the rest should be along shortly, as soon as I write it. I had the worst writers block in history, be glad I at least got this out! And please, please, please, review! I'll work on the second half shortly, but I'll be away from my computer for the weekend, and the a few datys later, for 2 weeks. I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. Bye for now!


End file.
